


Never Give Up

by MissPippinator



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Have I ever mentioned how rubbish I am at tags?, It all starts off a bit sad, It will cheer up, honest!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24131134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissPippinator/pseuds/MissPippinator
Summary: The Doctor is missing, possibly dead, and the Fam are back on earth trying to pick up their old lives. Yaz can't do that, and the unexpected arrival of the Doctor's old friend gives her the chance to go and find her missing best friend, and find out just how much the Doctor really means to her.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 33
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Start writing a new multi-chapter fic whilst I already have another one on the go? Does this mean I am a full fledged fanfic writer now?

It had been several months. Yaz was deliberately trying not to count the days, but she knew it had been months. Christmas was rapidly approaching, though she was in denial about it. Graham and Ryan had invited her over for Christmas Day, yet she didn’t expect she would take them up on their offer, and would instead spend the day as she did all her others since their return.

Whilst the men had settled back into their earth lives quickly, Yaz had struggled. And continued to struggle. She worked all the hours she possibly could, volunteering for extra shifts and signing up to every extra opportunity going at work. She needed to keep busy. To not think. Outside of work, she spent every waking second in the TARDIS. She didn’t like to call it that, though. The TARDIS to her was the Doctor’s TARDIS, and this one was nothing like that. It was quiet, empty, uncommunicative. Being in the Doctor’s TARDIS felt like home. Being in this one left her yearning for the other even more. Despite this, she had effectively moved into it. As it had taken on the guise of a house, she managed to convince her family that she had found somewhere to rent. She had allowed them to see the outside, but wouldn’t let them in, claiming she was waiting to finish work inside and would throw a house-warming party when it was ready.

Of course, that would never happen, though it was true she was working inside. The console of this TARDIS was completely different to the Doctor’s, and whilst she had begun to get at least a vague and tenuous idea of the occasional function of one or two bits and bobs on the Doctor’s console, this one was a complete mystery. So Yaz had bought a notebook, and was meticulously testing out every single switch, dial and lever, making notes about every response. 

When she had begun, she had been filled with terror that she’d somehow make it explode, or accidentally fly to some mystery planet she’d never be able to get back from, or cause some equally terrible fate. But she had a goal, and nothing would deter her from trying to achieve it, so she forged onwards. One day she would work out how to operate this TARDIS, and she would take it to Gallifrey and find the Doctor. Or bury her… no. She wasn’t going to let herself think of any possibility other than finding her friend alive. Her best friend. The woman who made her feel both alive and safe. Who had found a place in her heart that Yaz had never really thought would be filled. 

What made the situation even more complicated was that the outcome of using any particular component seemed to vary according to what had been used before it. She’d only realised this after accidentally testing a button she’d already pressed once. The moment she pressed it again she tutted at herself, remembering using it just an hour before and discovering that it had only seemed to dim the lights. Except that this time, pressing it apparently made the door swing open. A little experimentation confirmed that it did four different things, depending on what she had used immediately before, plus a further three things if she changed what had been used two steps before. At this point she actually threw the notebook across the room in despair and anger. She knew deep down that she’d never be able to learn how to fly this thing, but at least her methodical strategy of testing made her feel like she was doing something.

So every day when she had finished work, she would go to the not-the-TARDIS, grabbing something quick and easy to eat on the way, and work into the small hours testing another portion of the console, filling her seventh notebook with her findings. And when she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, she’d curl up in an adjacent room which contained nothing but a mattress pad on the floor and her yellow blanket which she’d brought from home. A large bag spilt clothes over the floor in a corner. Then she’d fall into oblivion and hope that dreams did not visit. 

She had one night dreamed that the door to this bedroom of sorts had opened and the Doctor was standing there – every detail perfect, and Dream-Yaz had burst into tears and literally launched herself into her friend’s arms. The feeling of warm arms holding her tight was so vivid and real: hearts beating against her own, her face buried in the Doctor’s neck, her tears dampening her skin. The intoxicating scent of the Doctor filled her nose, and then the feeling of lips as the Doctor pressed a kiss into her hair. Yaz had started awake, feeling cold and alone and sobbed the rest of the night away.

Yes, nothingness was better than dreams. She’d stayed up as long as she could the night after that dream, afraid to put herself through such painful emotions once more. People at work had noticed her changed demeanour, and one or two had even commented in the early days of being back. Yaz tried to bury her feelings deep down during the day and appear as normal as she could manage, but even she knew she had changed. 

Every Sunday, Graham invited her to have a Sunday roast with him and Ryan, and she did make the effort to go most weekends. It was both wonderful and painful – they were the only ones, once Ravio, Ethan and Yedlarmi had set off to build themselves a life in the 21st Century, who knew and understood what had happened. It was the only place she could talk openly about everything. 

On the other hand, whilst they clearly still worried about the Doctor, they had managed to settle back into their old lives. Ryan thrived on getting back together with his mates, and Graham seemed comfortable to have a bit of peace, whilst also regularly meeting up with friends for cards, walks, lunches out and so on. Ryan had fired up his old You Tube channel once more, and Graham went on coach trips for the day. Yaz knew their relationship with the Doctor had been different to hers – they saw her as family, the annoying older sibling or trying-to-be-cool single aunt who might be a bit embarrassing but you loved and made you laugh nonetheless. 

To Yaz, though, the Doctor was more. She was a friend. A best friend. More even than that, somehow, though it frightened Yaz to even contemplate what that meant. What she did know was that it felt like her heart was missing without the Doctor there. The world was diminished without her presence, nothing felt quite right – somehow incomplete.

Although she didn’t speak of this, Graham knew there was more going on than Yaz would talk about. As Ryan tried for the thousandth time to convince her to stop working on the not-the-TARDIS, that it was not good for her, Graham could see the grief and loss in her eyes, even if she wouldn’t admit it, shrugging off Ryan’s concerns with a half-smile. Knowing there was nothing he could say, he put his hand over hers, long enough to make her look at him. He smiled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then got up from the table to go and fetch the apple crumble from the kitchen, leaving Yaz to look vacantly out of the window as Ryan chattered on about the three hoops he shot in his last basketball game. 

And so the days passed. Too slowly and to fast at the same time. Yaz found herself sitting in Graham’s front room a week before Christmas as he and Ryan were listing the many reasons she needed to come to them on Christmas Day. 

“And you’ll never view Ryan as a grown adult again when you’ve seen him opening the presents in his stocking on Christmas morning,” Graham chuckled, reaching over to poke Ryan’s arm on the edge of the sofa affectionately. 

“Yeah, and then someone puts the stocking on one leg and hops around the house saying he’s Santa and has anyone seen his missing sock,” Ryan responded, literally rolling his eyes.

“It’s a tradition!” Graham cried in defence. “I do it every year – it wouldn’t be Christmas without the missing sock gag!” Yaz smiled into her cup of tea. She could at least bank on these two to make her laugh. 

“Anyway, Yaz, I’m sure your mum and dad wouldn’t mind you coming here for the day, would they?” Graham asked, getting up from his chair in the corner to take the biscuit tin back into the kitchen before Ryan emptied it completely. 

Yaz was sure her family wouldn’t mind. Although they obviously did not celebrate Christmas, they still used it as an opportunity for a family gathering, and the flat was usually filled with as many local relatives as they could cram in whilst her dad spent the day in the kitchen providing them all with dubious foods. “I am sure they wouldn’t mind, it’s just that I was hoping to use the day to begin testing a new section of the console.” 

Ryan turned to her from the other end of the sofa. “Yaz, you’ve got to give it a break, you’re gonna drive yourself mental if you keep this up much longer.” There was genuine concern in his eyes.

“He’s right,” Graham called from the kitchen, where the sound of the kettle beginning to boil could be heard. “You’ve got to start living again.”

Yaz looked down into her cup of tea. She knew how she was existing at the moment was not sustainable, but the thought of just giving up on the Doctor was unthinkable. How could she not do everything in her power to find her? The Doctor would never give up, and neither would she. If only she could get the other two to understand this. 

Graham reappeared in the doorway. “Do you want a top up, cockle?” he asked, waving the teapot he was holding. Yaz was about to answer when there was a flash and explosion, as if lightning had struck inside the living room, and Graham’s chair in the corner shattered in a shower of splinters and sparks as something crashed there out of nowhere. Their mouths dropped open in stunned shock as a figure staggered to its feet, brushed itself off, and turned around to give them all a broad smile.

“Gotcha!” he announced, giving them all a wink and finger guns. 

Yaz was the only one left with the power of speech, and all she could manage was: “Captain Jack?”

“It’s me, baby!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (23.8.20 Small edit to correct typos)

To his credit, Graham didn’t drop his teapot, but he used it to gesture at what remained of his chair, a look of outrage on his face.

“My chair!”

Jack looked down at the mess of smashed wood he was currently standing in the middle of. “Oh, sorry. But if you will go leaving chairs lying around,” he remonstrated.

“It’s my living room! Will people stop landing on my chairs in my living room?” He exclaimed to the universe in general.

“What are you doing here?” Yaz interjected, feeling that the chair was not the key issue here. “How did you even get here?” She added, though remembering how the three of them had ended up on a spaceship Jack had stolen, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know the answer. Jack tapped a device strapped to his wrist. 

“Is that a vortex manipulator?” Ryan asked, recognising it from their run in with Krasko in Alabama.

“Yeah. Finally managed to get my hands on a new one. Or rather an old one with a glitchy sub-paralellator. Makes the landings a bit rough.” He glanced down again at the ex-chair under his feet. “But it only took two attempts to find you guys,” he said brightly. “I am not sure the people in that old folks home are going to get over my arrival there about half an hour ago very easily, but I am sure they will be able to get a new conservatory soon enough.” He shrugged. 

“I am sorry for repeating myself,” Yaz began and Jack immediately interrupted her.

“Never apologise, darling,” he smiled winningly. “Say what you wanna say with confidence and style!”

Yaz looked in slight confusion at Ryan, but the young man shrugged at her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “WHY are you here?” And at this question, Jack’s face grew serious. “Perhaps we’d better sit down for this,” he suggested. He looked over to Graham. “You should get a chair in this corner, you know,” grabbing one from the table, plonking it on top of the rubble and sitting down. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. They sat in silence for a moment, unsure if Jack was expecting them to speak first, when he waved at Graham. “Take a seat, Grandad, you’re gonna need to be sitting down to hear this.” 

Graham’s mouth opened and shut a few times. But he could think of nothing to say, so sat mutely on a chair at the table, teapot still in hand. Yaz waited, feeling impatient, for Jack to get to the point. Why on earth was he there?

“Since getting my hands on this little baby,” Jack brandished his wrist, “And a few more interesting gadgets,” he added thoughtfully, “I’ve been trying to trace the Doctor.”

Yaz sat up a little straighter at the mention of the Doctor, her mouth dry. Where was this heading?

“For weeks, nothing. Travelled all over the place, not getting any clues at all. And then one evening, from a quiet little corner of a distant galaxy, I heard it.” He paused dramatically.

“Heard what?” Ryan pressed.

“The TARDIS.” 

“You found the planet we left the TARDIS on?” Yaz asked.

“On a planet? No,” Jack shook his head. “She was drifting in space.”

Yaz’s heart began to beat faster and she sat on the edge of her seat, leaning towards Jack. “But we left the TARDIS on the planet where we met Ravio. How could she have ended up in space?” Her mind was screaming at her that there was a very simple way the TARDIS would end up in space, but she was afraid of getting hopeful. 

Jack looked at her earnestly. “I can tell something happened. Something serious. I can see it on your face, in your eyes,” Yaz nodded, trying and failing to stop her eyes from filling up. Even after all this time, she felt overwhelmed by what had happened. Jack sat back and surveyed all three of them. “I know where she is.” Whatever he had sensed from them up to this point, he probably hadn’t anticipated the response he got. 

Ryan jumped to his feet, “No way!” he exclaimed in excitement, his eyes wide.

Graham dropped the teapot.

Yaz gasped, her hands over her mouth, an unshed tear finally falling down her cheek as she stared at Jack. She rapidly composed herself, swiping the tear away with her hand and trying to stop it from shaking. She needed to stay in control here. After all these months of meticulously testing the not-the-TARDIS to be able to go and find the Doctor, suddenly the goal had jumped an entire galaxy closer in one moment.

Jack smiled nervously. “How… how did you guys lose her?” 

Ryan looked down at his hands. Graham coughed. 

“Well, we thought she might be…” he faded out and glanced at Yaz.

“We thought she’d sacrificed her life to save the universe,” Yaz said quietly. 

“Wow! The Doctor never does things by halves,” Jack chuckled, but Yaz saw no humour in the situation. She needed information. She needed to be certain.

“You’re sure she’s alive?” 

“Oh yeah. She’s definitely alive.” 

“Where is she?” Yaz, voice trembling slightly, had zoned out Ryan and Graham. There was just her and Jack and she had to get as much information as possible right now. She wished she had her notebook. 

“She’s in prison.”

“She’s what?” Graham retorted. “Our Doc? That’s ridiculous!”

“Yeah, she’d never do anything to get put in prison!” Ryan added in defence.

“Word on the street, or rather in the seedy bar on the nearest planet to the prison asteroid, is that it was some kind of cold case the Judoon had on their books.” At the mention of the Judoon, Yaz drew in a breath. She’d thought that was over, done with, finished. They’d been looking for Ruth, and Ruth was long gone. Except the Doctor had said Ruth was her, somehow, so evidently the Judoon had started looking for both of them. 

“So what do we do? How do we get her out?” Jack grinned at Yaz’s questions. 

“I was hoping you’d ask that. I can bust her out, but I am going to need help, can’t do it alone. What I really need is a pair of eyes to keep watch. Anyone game?”

Yaz shot her arm into the air as if she was in school. Then she collected herself and looked over at Ryan, who’d only just got his life back with his mates, and Graham, enjoying his peace and quiet. She could see the indecision in their eyes. She didn’t doubt for a second how much they wanted to see their friend safe, but if Jack didn’t need them all, there was little point in them coming along. 

“I suppose too many people would be a problem,” she suggested to Jack. “One extra pair of eyes is useful, but three makes us much more visible and likely to get caught.” Jack nodded in agreement as Yaz continued, addressing her two friends. “So why don’t you two stay here? I’ll go with Jack, and once we’ve got the Doctor…” nothing in the universe could stop the smile from forming on her face when she said those words, “We’ll come back here. Sound like a plan?”

Graham and Ryan looked at each other for a moment, then nodded their agreement. Once Graham had made them both cheese and pickle sandwiches to take, they waved goodbye on the doorstep as Yaz, heart pounding with excitement, led Jack to something she knew would surprise him – the not-the-TARDIS. From the moment she realised that she could actually do something, she had been unable to keep still, pacing in Graham’s front room as he made the sandwiches and the others had kept talking for what felt to her like far too long over far too trivial matters. Every second counted and she and Jack needed to get going. 

During the short walk towards the small housing estate in which the not-the-TARDIS was parked, Yaz explained what had happened to them on Gallifrey, finding it easier to talk about now there was a very real reason to hope, knowing the Doctor had not died. She didn’t tell Jack what she was taking him to as they approached the house-like exterior.

“What, you got something sneaky in your bedroom?” He quipped as Yaz inserted the key in the lock. She merely glanced sideways at him with a grin, and gestured for him to go in first once she had opened the door. 

Jack whistled as he stepped inside. “You are one sly cookie,” he laughed, giving her a hug. “Now we’re in business!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (23.8.20 Small edits to correct typos)

Yaz felt childishly proud of herself at Jack’s reaction to the not-the-TARDIS.

“Do you know how to fly it?” She asked with trepidation.

“I can give it a go,” Jack mused whilst wandering around the console, flicking the odd switch. 

“I’ve been testing everything on the console,” Yaz declared. “I’ve got 7 notebooks filled with notes about them,” she added.

“I can’t fault your dedication,” Jack replied, before adding, “But a TARDIS doesn’t really work like that,” causing Yaz to deflate. “It’s a bit more… instinctive. You know they’re kind of telepathic?” He gave a wink as if reflecting something cheeky he was thinking about (which, knowing Jack, he probably was).

“I did know that,” Yaz protested weakly. “But I thought… I just…” she fizzled out, suddenly feeling like maybe the past months had been an exercise in pointlessness.

“No, no, no, sweetheart, I didn’t mean your work wasn’t any use!” Jack said hurriedly, noting the way Yaz’s shoulders drooped and her smile vanished. “Every TARDIS develops differently, according to its owner, or pilot, I should say.” 

“But this one doesn’t have an owner or pilot. It’s just had me being an idiot.” Yaz leaned back against the wall despondently. She had been such a fool, thinking she had been doing something positive to try and help the Doctor all this time, and all she had been doing was wasting her time.

“You’re wrong,” Jack chided gently. “All that time you spent in here? She knows, she’s been watching and listening and getting to know you,” 

“And laughing at me.”

Jack put his hands on Yaz’s shoulders and looked her in the face. 

“No. It’s connected with you. I can have a stab at flying it, but I am gonna need you to help. I won’t be able to do it without you.” Yaz took a breath and nodded nervously. She really didn’t have any clue how she might be able to help when all she felt she really knew was how to turn the lights on and off. But Jack was already circling the console, operating some random controls experimentally. Yaz stepped closer, and as he twisted a particular dial, she flicked two nearby switches, and all of a sudden the room was filled with an expectant hum and the whole console lit up as if a power switch had been pressed.

Yaz looked at Jack in amazement, and he laughed back. “See? Told ya!” and he began working on the console with an increased focus and determination. Yaz watched what he was doing, and at various points complemented his actions with her own, not entirely understanding why she was doing what she was doing. But to her amazement, it seemed to be working, and the not-the-TARDIS, which had felt dead and empty since they had landed on Earth all those months ago felt alive once again. Jack pushed a pair of levers back, Yaz slammed her fist down on a large button and the time rotor wheezed into life, a familiar VWORP VWORP sound echoed around the room, and they had done it: the not-the-TARDIS had taken off.

Now, it was not as if the Doctor was famed for her smooth flying, but even the most turbulent of trips with the Doctor paled in comparison with the way they were being thrown around at this moment. Jack and Yaz both held onto the console for dear life, the time rotor screaming as if in pain. Yaz was absolutely sure she had blown it and that they were heading into the middle of a black hole or something equally terrible, when she felt her eyes drawn to a small, innocuous-looking switch near her left elbow. Something was tugging at her brain, but she was sure if she let go of the console to turn it, she would be hurled bodily across the room. 

Jack noticed her looking intently at it and shouted above the deafening shrieks the not-the-TARDIS was emitting. “Is that switch important? Do you need to press it?”

“I think so,” Yaz bellowed back as loudly as she could. “But I can’t let go or I am going to end up in a pile of broken bones at the other side of the room!” She was trying to work out if there was any way she could reach it with her elbow when, with a roar of determination, Jack literally launched himself along from where he was, and went flying, carried by the violent movements of the not-the-TARDIS on a trajectory that would slam him into the opposite wall.

“Jack!” Yaz screamed – not only had she done the wrong thing, now Jack was going to be seriously injured or worse because of her actions! However, as he went sailing past, he managed to snag the switch, which caused an instant calm to flood the room. The turmoil ceased and Jack crashed to the floor at Yaz’s feet. He looked up at her astounded face, both of them panting with the efforts of surviving the last few minutes. Somehow he managed to look as if he’d meant to end up in a heap on the floor all along and flashed her a dazzling smile.

“Stabiliser!” He puffed. “Glad you remembered that one!”

Yaz pried her fingers from their death grip on the console and drew in a shuddering breath. “I don’t think ‘remembered’ is quite the word. It was more like it was planted in my head.” 

“Whether you knew it or not, you’ve been connecting with this thing these past few months.”

A judder accompanied by an annoyed-sounding trill suggested the not-the-TARDIS didn’t appreciate how it had been referred to, and prompting Yaz to quote the Doctor: “Don’t call her a thing!”

“Sorry, doll!” Jack responded, and Yaz genuinely didn’t know if he was talking to her or the not-the-TARDIS.

“What would have happened if she hadn’t told me? If we didn’t have that connection?” It was another one of those questions Yaz wasn’t entirely sure she really wanted to know the answer to.

“Certain death!” Jack commented cheerily, jumping to his feet and twiddling a few knobs on the console. Yaz closed her eyes as he continued. “But we didn’t die, and if I am reading this correctly, we are heading exactly where we need to go.” She opened one eye, then the other.

“The prison asteroid you mentioned?”

“No, it would be far too dangerous to land there. The Judoon are a bit…”

“Trigger happy? Yeah, we got that impression when we ran into them in Gloucester,” Yaz said, remembering how it had felt staring at the wrong end of a Judoon weapon. “So where are we going?”

“The nearest planet to the asteroid. I’d say it has a seedy underbelly, but it’s not just the underbelly. The whole place is like a dodgy backstreet full of sordid bars and an endless supply of undesirables.”

“Sounds like your sort of place,” Yaz couldn’t resist interjecting, to which Jack laughed heartily. 

“I like you! And you’re not entirely wrong. We need someone who can get us into the prison, and the Judoon are not that picky about where they get their supplies from. Whoever can do the cheapest deal gets the job. The place is seething with people trying to stab each other in the back and win the juiciest contracts.” 

Yaz began to understand what the plan was. “So we need to find someone who has scored a contract and will take us with them?” 

“Bingo!”

“But why would anyone take us? Surely that’s a really risky thing for them to do.”

“It is. But these people will do anything for money, and I just happen to have the code for a particularly impressive vault on the banking moon of Kwendair with enough in it to convince even the most… hard of hearts!”

Yad nodded, her lips pursed. It wasn’t the most appealing plan for someone who worked in law enforcement, and she wasn’t sure the Doctor would approve either. But then again, if it was the only way they were going to get into the prison, she had little choice. The thought of seeing the Doctor again was becoming ever more vivid in her head, and she found herself daring to believe it might actually work, and that she might be able to see her friend, touch her, hug her. In fact, she was fairly sure that if she did see her again, she’d hold her so tight she’d never let her go again. For a moment, all she could think about was being wrapped in the Doctor’s arms, the sensations from that dream she’d had so long ago surging back. But there was a sound. What was that sound? She blinked and realised Jack was clicking his fingers in front of her.

“Where were you just then?” he asked curiously, prompting Yaz’s cheeks to grow warm. She just shook her head dismissively and tried to pull her focus back onto the task at hand.

“How long until we get there?” 

Jack studied various things on the console for a moment, then looked up with a smirk. “Right about now!” The time rotor fell still and the doors swung open. “Ready?” Her asked. Yaz shook her head.

“Not at all.” She smiled nevertheless. “Let’s go!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (23.8.20 Small edits to correct typos)

The moment Yaz stepped out of the not-the-TARDIS, her senses were assaulted from every direction. They had materialised down a dingy alley which, if the foul stench of ammonia was anything to go by, doubled as a public bathroom, and it opened out onto a long street crammed with all manner of life forms, from human (or at least humanoid) to squid with everything imaginable in between. The sky above was dark, but the lights streaming from every window along the street made it feel like broad daylight, indeed brighter than daylight if that was possible. Yaz was torn between shielding her eyes from the dazzling brightness or covering her hears to muffle the deafening sound of life being lived at its most extreme. People were shouting, screaming, bellowing. Engines were roaring whilst belching out plumes of acrid smoke. Music was blaring from copious doorways and the combination of all these sounds added up to a cacophony that attacked the ear-drums without reservation. 

There would be absolutely no point in attempting any kind of verbal communication, so Yaz merely looked questioningly at him, and he nodded his head towards the less brightly lit end of the street and they set off, barging their way through the crowds. Yaz found there was no point in being polite – no one was going to move out of good will and actually the only way to get the most stubborn or oblivious to shift was a sharp jab to the ribs (or at least a region where ribs might possibly be located – if not ribs then hopefully something equally responsive to being heavily poked). 

The further down the street they made it, the dimmer the lighting got, and Yaz realised there were fewer open doorways blasting music. Instead there were definite groupings of people, often looking pretty furtive. Should one group stray too close to another, scuffles broke out, punches were thrown, and what sounded like insults exchanged until one or both groups reformed and resumed their secretive conversations. 

Keeping as close to Jack as was possible with the ever-moving crowds ebbing and flowing through the street, Yaz noticed they seemed to be veering towards a particular building set slightly back from the others. As they neared, Jack paused and put his mouth next to Yaz’s ear, which was the only way she’d be able to actually hear what he was saying.

“This is the place my contact said we would have the best chance to find someone to take us to the prison asteroid. You’re gonna have to blend in whilst I put some feelers out in there. You’re lookin’ a little, er, neat…” Jack explained. Yaz looked at him, slightly confused. What was he expecting her to do about that here, in the middle of a thronging alien street? He shrugged and pointed to her hair, giving up on words. Yaz pulled off the hairband at the end of the long braid currently restraining her hair, and ran her hands through it to try and “scruff it up” a bit. She had no idea what the result was, but Jack gave her a wink and a grin, then turned and headed through the dark doorway. Yaz followed with trepidation. 

Walking into the bar – if that’s what it was – felt like being engulfed in the armpit of something with questionable hygiene. It was dark, oppressive and smelt like the aged sweat of a thousand marathon runners. There was dissonant music playing in another room, the thumping bass providing a heartbeat-like backing track to the rumble of secretive discussions going on at the tables scattered around the room. Yaz stood close behind Jack, who was talking earnestly but quietly to someone at the bar. She tried to look inconspicuous, to not make eye contact with anyone or anything there, but at the same time stay alert. This didn’t seem the sort of place to relax and let your guard down. Her long hair was useful at this point, providing a curtain to hide her eyes behind as she peered through the curls.

Jack tapped her on the shoulder and beckoned for her to follow him to a table tucked away in an even darker corner of the dark room. Three figures were already occupying the table, and Jack nodded at them. Yaz copied him, and they sat on two of the spare chairs.

Of the three figures, two were definitely humanoid. The third was rather more tentacley than Yaz was used to, a particular memory of the aftermath of an incident involving giant space squid flashing into her mind. She listened intently to Jack explain to the trio that they were looking for access to the prison and were prepared to pay handsomely for the right deal. The aliens looked at one another without speaking – Yaz wondered if they were communicating in some other way, when one of them spoke.

“What sort of renumeration are you offering?” Its voice was gravelly and made Yaz’s throat hurt in some kind of sympathetic resonance. Jack slid a small device across the table for the others to see. They picked it up and passed it between them, again without speaking, before sliding it back to Jack. “That would be satisfactory,” the same alien who had spoken before snarled. “But we have… conditions,” it added.

Yaz and Jack glanced at each other. “What kind of conditions?” Yaz asked, hoping her voice sounded more confident that it did in her head. The alien smiled, displaying a mouthful of alarmingly sharp teeth. Although Yaz was trying to remain cool, she couldn’t supress the involuntary flinch at the sight of them – which was probably the effect he had been going for. 

“You will need to work in the engine room for the journey. We need people to power the furnace, and this way we don’t need to hire any labourers.”

“Not a problem,” Jack assured them. “When and where?” 

“Landing pad 12d in 5.” Replied the growly alien, whereupon the three of them stood and left without a second glance. 

Yaz realised she had been holding her breath, and puffed her cheeks out as she exhaled. “So we have a ride? Even if we’re working for it?” she needed Jack to clarify they really were going before she let her hopes rise.

“Uh huh,” Jack nodded. “At least the journey isn’t going to be long. And we have a bit of time to fill. What’s your poison?”

Yaz looked blankly at him.

“Well we might as well have a drink to pass the time!”

_________________________

They didn’t drink, though, instead opting to spend the time finding where the landing pads were and trying to get through the crowds still cramming the streets. Yaz had hoped the landing pads would be at least a little quieter, but she was very much mistaken. There were fewer crowds, that much was true. But the noise of the music and people was replaced with the thunder of engines and machinery, and the constant clanging of metal on metal. Jack asked an indifferent guard in a grubby uniform for directions to 12d and was rewarded with a half-hearted hand flick to the right. They made their way, along with various groups of shifty-looking characters who were carrying, rolling, dragging and otherwise transporting all manner of things which were evidently bound for the prison asteroid. 

For the first time since arriving on the planet, the dark sky above was visible without the blinding street lighting. As they shuffled along, Yaz turned her eyes upwards, and saw for the first time the asteroid, distant but visible. Overcome by the emotions it stirred within her, she took hold of Jack’s arm as she looked at it. The Doctor was there. On that asteroid. Actually, really there, and Yaz would be there soon to rescue her. 

Jack looked down at the young woman clutching his arm, seeing her eyes fixed on the asteroid in the distance. “Won’t take us long to get there, sweetheart,” he said kindly.

They rounded a corner to see a long row of landing pads populated by a startling variety of craft, from a couple of fairly tiny, one-person things that looked little more safe than riding a bicycle into space, to an absolutely enormous Judoon ship on the furthest pad. There were no actual Judoon, Yaz was relieved to note, but every ship was being either loaded or unloaded, with all manner of things being carted to and fro. Jack tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to what was probably the grungiest ship of all. The trio from the bar were busy loading crates into a large opening on the side. When the growly one (Yaz wondered if he was the only one who could actually speak) saw them, he left the loading to the other two and placed himself between Yaz and Jack, putting an arm around each of their shoulders, his face split into an ugly grin displaying his sharpened teeth. At this close proximity, Yaz’s nose was treated to the shock of his odour and it was as much as she could do to stop herself from gagging. Her eyes watered as he dragged them both up the ramp and into the cavernous interior. 

“So glad you could both make it. Let me show you to your first class travelling compartment,” he sniggered, and yanked open a round hatch. A wave of intense heat hit Yaz, and she could see through the opening into a smaller area of the ship with a raging furnace in the centre. On one side was a huge handle which appeared to operate bellows pumping air into the fire. Yaz thought this an archaic way to power a futuristic technology as she stepped tentatively through the doorway, causing the alien to burst into unpleasant laughter at her reluctance. 

“The Judoon inspectors won’t bother you in here,” he assured them, “Better get working, we are ready to leave!” And he slammed the door, sealing them into the heat. 

Yaz pulled her leather jacket and overshirt off, leaving her in a t-shirt. Jack had the same idea, ending up in a white vest. They hung their clothes as carefully as possible on some pipework next to the door, though it was pretty clear there was no way they were going to keep clean, given the thick coating of soot on everything, and the huge hopper of what appeared to be coal along the length of one of the walls. 

“So I guess one of us shovels and the other pumps,” Jack commented with a drawl. Yaz couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You really can’t say anything without it sounding like a pick up line,” she replied, fishing her hairband from her pocket to tie her hair back into a ponytail. “I’ll shovel the coal… or whatever that stuff is,” she looked dubiously at the pile of crumbly black stuff. “You can pump.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to concentrate whilst I am pumping?” Jack winked at her and Yaz shook her head, laughing. His cheeky approach distracted her from the rising anxiety that had been growing since they landed. She picked up the shovel, black with soot, and dug it into the pile of whatever the fuel was. It was not hard and brittle, like coal, but crumbly like chalk, and a cloud of dust rose as she lifted the shovel and turned to the furnace burning behind her. Stepping closer, she felt it scorch her face and sweat immediately began to trickle down her temples. She hefted the “coal” into the fire and stepped back, wiping the sweat from her brow without thinking and leaving a smudge of soot across her temple. 

“Suits you,” Jack commented, heaving the handle of the bellows upwards, causing the muscles in his arms to bulge. Yaz wiped absently at her cheek without thinking, adding an additional streak of soot to her face.

“What is this, anyway?” Yaz asked as Jack’s pumping resulted in the fire raging even hotter. She twisted to pick up another shovelful, appreciative of turning her face away from the inferno for a moment. 

“Caudlum, I think,” Jack replied, “Excellent but dirty fuel.” He resumed his pumping, his vest already soaked through, clinging to him.

Yaz was similarly drenched, the caudlum dust sticking to her damp skin as she continued to shovel into the fire. The taut muscles on her arms were screaming as she threw load after load into the flames, her face set in an expression of grim determination not to give up. She knew she could do this, the Doctor was depending on her. That thought alone kept her working even as she felt the sweat run down her body under her t-shirt. 

All of a sudden, a grate crashed down, closing off the opening into the furnace, and Yaz looked in confusion at Jack. “We’ve landed!” he announced, sounding relieved. With the grate in front of the fire, it died down rapidly, and although still intensely hot, it was far less intolerable than it had been. Yaz decided to sacrifice her overshirt and used it to wipe the caudlum soot from her hands, as Jack stretched his arms above him to relieve his aching muscles. The journey had been short, but the effort had been immense, something no doubt usually carried out by more than just two. She was about to open the door back into the main area of the ship when Jack put out a hand to stop her. 

“Listen,” he whispered. Through the layers of metal, Yaz heard it – the sound of Judoon inspectors. They both hurried to look busy and hopefully competent as the door swung open and a Judoon poked its head through. Yaz used the shovel to dig in the caudlum, moving it around with what she hoped looked like purpose. Jack had crouched down and was fiddling with some pipework connecting the bellows to the furnace. The Judoon seemed more interested in whether there was any contraband in the room, and once satisfied there was nothing there, headed elsewhere. 

Yaz and Jack listened from the relative safety of the engine room until the inspectors completed their rounds. If there was anything on board that shouldn’t be there (besides them, of course) then it was well enough hidden, or the Judoon simply didn’t care, and they marched off down the ramp. 

The growly alien called to them. “Hey! Come on! Grab a box each and get out of here!” He pointed at the stack of large wooden boxes stamped with the official seal. Lifting one each, their already tired muscles complaining, Yaz and Jack ventured off the ship and into the prison.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just how many close calls can Yaz survive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait between chapters - life is happening. Thank you for not giving up on me, and enjoy Yaz inching ever closer to a reunion with the Doctor!
> 
> (23.8.20 Small edits to correct typos)

Surprisingly, a lot of those running the prison seemed to be not Judoon. Apparently they outsourced a lot of the operations to others, with only the occasional Judoon guard on show. Yaz was a little concerned that their rather grubby appearance post-engine room would draw undue attention to them, but in fact they had arrived in a large hanger filled with as interesting an array of ships as they had seen down on the planet, and the walkways were busy, with people carting goods from the ships to trailers lined up behind what appeared to be golf carts. Everything had an air of grunginess, and people seemed pretty much to be left to get on with what they needed to do. Probably because everyone else seemed to know what to do, whereas Yaz had absolutely no idea at all. She stuck closely behind Jack, who carried an air of confidence within himself at all times, and seemed able to fit in wherever he was. 

They followed the others taking their cargo to the trailers, but once they had deposited their crates with the rest, Jack pulled Yaz surreptitiously round the back, where they crouched, out of sight. 

“What next?” Yaz whispered.

“How are you at driving?” he breathed back.

“You mean these carts? How can we? We don’t know how they work, or where to go!” 

“These things are always the same,” Jack shrugged. “Bit green button to turn the power on, then push the stick whichever way you want to go. Easy.” 

Yaz felt unconvinced, but what choice did she have? She had not been closer to the Doctor in months, and yet she still felt herself fighting a feeling of hopelessness. Her fear now was predominantly that she would get caught, and all these months would have been for nothing. Worse than nothing. Fortunately, her courage and determination to do whatever it took were the stronger emotions, though, and she nodded resolutely. She could do this. A golf cart was nothing in comparison to the not-the-TARDIS! 

“There’s four of ‘em,” Jack explained. “If we take the last two, we just follow the ones in front. Go wherever they go.” 

This made sense to Yaz, and before she had time to question anything, Jack literally pushed her into the driving seat of the cart they were behind, whilst slipping into the one in front. It wasn’t long before four shabbily dressed figures ambled to the carts, two of them getting in the ones in front. Yaz’s heart began beating as the other two headed for the carts she and Jack had already taken up position in, and was thankful Jack was in front, as they headed straight for him, clearly unimpressed with the situation. 

She couldn’t hear what was being said, but a lot of arms were being flung about in apparent anger, and a fair bit of head shaking and pointing elsewhere. Yaz held her breath as all three turned suddenly to look at her, and she almost waved at them, stopping her reflexive action at the last moment when her brain kicked back into gear. Instead she glared as gruffly as she could, resulting in a final shrug from the other two, who ambled back the way they had come. Jack gave her a quick thumbs up before turning back to face the front, and the first cart began to move. 

Yaz looked at the dashboard in front of her, for the green button he had assured her would be there. There was no big green button. Nor a small green button. Nor anything green at all. There was a screen, there was the joystick, but nothing else. No buttons, dials, switches or anything. The first cart had moved off at a snails pace and the second one had rumbled into life behind it. There was no way of making Jack aware without drawing attention to herself, and as the second cart began it’s slow movement, Jack started his engine. Yaz craned her neck to try and see what he had done, but it was no good. The dashboard was too low down and there was no way to see it. Panic began to rise as she felt all over the dashboard in case the button was somehow not visible, but screen and joystick aside, it was smooth and featureless. 

Jack’s cart inched away in front of her and Yaz’s desperate hands were feeling under the dashboard, up the sides, everywhere they could, but there seemed to be absolutely nothing at all. No pedals on the floor. Nothing. A gap was growing in front of her as the other carts, though slow, headed away from her. People were starting to notice her cart wasn’t moving. A few had stopped and were watching openly. Tears of frustration were forming in her eyes and her brain was screaming at her to do something. 

Jack had not looked back to see her trouble, and now a couple of the people who had stopped to watch her were beginning to wander over. In a fit of both rage and desperation, Yaz slammed her hand down on the screen, which suddenly burst into life and the engine growled into action. Yaz almost laughed at the relief. She had pressed all over the screen already, but apparently it had just needed a bit of a whack. The people who had been watching her and approaching, turned back to whatever they had been doing, and Yaz pushed the joystick forwards, blinking away the tears as the cart finally moved. 

She followed the carts in front through a darkened doorway into a long, wide corridor. It was featureless save the occasional ineffective light set into the ceiling, and it felt endless, given the slow pace of the carts. Part of the way along, red lights ahead signalled the carts in front stopping, and Jack risked a quick glance back at Yaz. She gave him a weak smile, trying to see what had caused the delay, but it was too dark, and the red lights of the stopped carts didn’t help to illuminate the situation at all. After a couple of painfully long minutes, a Judoon inspector squeezed its large bulk beside each cart and trailer, shining a torch at each driver, then the contents of the trailers. Yaz and Jack could do nothing but submit to the inspection and hope for the best. They had no means of identification, should it be required, nothing to authorise them if needed. 

Yaz watched, heart in mouth, as the Judoon seemed to pause for longer when it came to Jack, shining the light directly into his eyes, causing him to squint at the brightness. But once again their luck held out, and it moved on to check the contents of his trailer. And then move to Yaz. It seemed far less interested in her than Jack, though, and once it had taken a cursory glance at Yaz and her cargo, it waved the torch at the ceiling in what must have been a signal to continue. They were one step closer to the Doctor. 

When they eventually reached the end of the corridor, there was a junction of more brightly lit tunnels, and now there were roadways for the carts and pathways for those who were walking - and there seemed to be a lot walking: Judoon and humanoid alike, all wearing variations of the same uniform. They stopped again at the junction as a Judoon scanned the screen on each cart dashboard and pointed which direction they should go in. 

Yaz felt her panic rising again. The first cart was sent left, the second right. They were losing the ones who knew where they were going, and it was entirely possible she and Jack would be split up. Yaz wished they’d talked more extensively about what was going to happen, to make plans for this sort of eventuality. It was too late now. Jack was sent down the second tunnel from the right, and Yaz was given the news she didn’t want – the tunnel straight ahead. Not with Jack, nor even with any of the other carts. She was on her own. 

There was nothing for it but to push the joystick forwards and head in the direction she’d been sent. Now she was reliant on her own wits, she did what she had learnt to do since becoming a passenger in the TARDIS – try to think like the Doctor. She had observed the Doctor a lot over time. In fact sometimes it was hard not to watch her - she found her mesmerising. For such an unassuming figure, she could carry such presence and authority, and Yaz yearned for that right now. What she wouldn’t give to have the reassurance of the Doctor by her side, her friend and mentor and… Yaz didn’t know exactly how to describe what the Doctor truly meant to her. To be honest, she kind of avoided even thinking about it because she was afraid of the answer. What she couldn’t deny was the feelings stirred up by the Time Lord, and how she would move heaven and earth to see her again. 

It was these final thoughts, the ones hidden mostly deeply in her heart, that spurred her on. Be confident, even if you don’t feel it. Sound like you know what you’re doing even when you don’t. Smile. Put them off guard. Yaz drew in a shaky breath and pushed on down the tunnel, heading towards a bright area at the end where a group of three rather more official looking guards were standing. Despite wanting to shrink down in the cart, to hide under the dashboard, she kept her head high and followed the directions of one of the guards to park to the side, allowing them to access the trailer. 

“Papers!” He barked.

Yaz’s instinct was to freeze, but she forced herself to keep breathing, to maintain eye contact. She wasn’t sure her heart could endure the never-ending succession of terrifying moments, but it kept on beating for now. 

“They didn’t give me the papers,” she stated bluntly.

The guards looked at each other. Yaz stood as calmly as she could manage. 

“They must have given you the papers,” one of the other guards stepped forwards, a woman this time. “They don’t let you leave the loading bay without the papers.”

Yaz was certain that none of the carts had been given papers as they left, so decided to try and call their bluff.

“Scan the screen. This is where I am meant to be, papers or no papers.” Her knees felt like jelly, but still she stood firm. She didn’t have much choice at this moment. She couldn’t run, and she couldn’t fight off three guards. 

The guards looked at each other once again, then the woman stepped forward, pulling a scanner out of her utility belt and scanned the screen on the dashboard of the cart. The other two guards gathered around to examine it, then looked questioningly at Yaz. 

“You’re right, they didn’t give you papers.” 

Yaz breathed.

“Why didn’t you ask for them?”

“I am new. Didn’t know I needed them.” Yaz figured lies were best hidden within a cloak of truth.

“Let us scan your ID bracelet, then.”

Shit. 

“They haven’t issued me with my bracelet yet. But I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have authorisation, would I? You think they’d let someone just stroll in off a ship and drive off in a cart?” 

The guard paused, but Yaz held her nerve and stopped herself from gabbling on. She waited.

And then they nodded and stepped aside, waving the way through the doorway they were guarding. Yaz tried to move confidently, picking up one of the crates from the trailer and striding through. She couldn’t quite believe she had pulled this off. She passed the guards and walked towards where she could see piles of other crates stacked in a corner when she was suddenly grabbed from behind, dropping her crate in shock. Hands roughly pinned her arms and she was thrust against the wall, an arm pressed across her back. 

“No one gets in here without an ID bracelet,” one of the guards snarled in her ear. “You’re in big trouble.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! I am still alive! I full intend to finish both stories currently on the go here, but forgive me for struggling with life the universe and everything which caused a major inability to do any reading or writing for a while. 
> 
> This is a short chapter, but hopefully will get me moving again.

It registered somewhere in Yaz’s brain that she was panicking less about this situation than everything that had happened before. Her training had prepared her for moments like this, so whilst she knew very well that what she did would be absolutely critical, she found herself falling into patterns and responses previously used on the streets of Sheffield when diffusing parking disputes and Saturday night scuffles. She’d never been pinned to a wall, thankfully, but she had dealt with similar situations happening to others.

She knew she needed to take charge of the situation and fast, and a sudden idea popped into her head. It relied heavily on calling the bluff of the people currently pinning her to the wall, but there was little option other than to go for it. She mustered every ounce of authority she could.

“You need to let go of me right now. I am from the prison inspectorate looking into complaints about the running of this place.”

That alone was never going to solve the problem, and she didn’t expect the guards to believe her straight away. But she did sense them pause, and felt a slight lessening of the pressure on her back. She needed to use this to her advantage and not give them time to think or question. She forged ahead.

“We have had a number of specific comments about this area and how officials are not following the protocols. Believe me, this is not going to go down well in my report!” She attempted to infuse her voice with as much superiority and righteousness as possible, and it was working. The three guards began muttering between each other and the grip holding her loosened even more. It was enough. All she needed. She took the chance because there might not be another one. 

With a deft twist and turn, she yanked herself out of their grip, at the same time grabbing some handcuffs hanging from the belt of one of the guards. She drove an elbow into the stomach of the first guard to lunge at her, causing them to double over, gasping for breath. She ducked a punch thrown at her by the third guard, allowing her to grab their arm and swing them against the wall with all her might. This in itself would not have done a great deal were it not for the ledge of a hatch jutting out from the wall at a convenient head height. The guard’s head slammed into the corner of the ledge and they fell to the floor in a dazed slump. 

The one remaining guard made the mistake of hesitating just long enough for Yaz to hurl herself forward, fastening one end of the handcuffs around their wrist and the other around a strut on the golf cart. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to stop them from preventing Yaz from getting away. 

“I’ll send a copy of my inspection report to your superiors in the morning and you three had better start looking for new jobs!” Yaz couldn’t resist saying before running round the corner.

Where she slammed straight into Jack with enough force to make them both fall over.

“Woah! Slow down, what’s the rush?” he commented as they both picked themselves up. “I was coming to rescue you!”

Yaz smirked, pleased she was finally able to feel like she was pulling her weight and not just following Jack in a panic. “That’s very kind, but actually I didn’t need rescuing.” The sound of the two conscious guards, not that far away, drifted round the corner. “But I think we need to move, fast.” Jack was savvy enough that he didn’t need an explanation, and they both ran down the corridor, away from the guards. 

Jack tried to explain as quietly as he could as they made their way deeper within the prison what he had been up to whilst they had been separated. “Got my hands on a general access tablet courtesy of a friendly Albarian,” he brandished the tablet. “Well, I say ‘friendly’, but I don’t suppose they had much choice with my arm across their windpipe,” he added, chuckling. “We need somewhere quiet to have a proper look.” 

Yaz nodded as they ran, even though Jack was not looking at her. She felt energised, more in control since overcoming the guards. They could do this. They WOULD do this. They were going to find the Doctor and get her out of there. 

They rounded a corner and the next section of corridor had numerous doors along each side. Each door had a small window in it, and they peered carefully through the first one. The rom within was apparently some kind of storage room, with boxes stacked up against the back wall. They made their way along the corridor, looking through each window, cautious in case there were people inside who would spot them. Yaz also felt a tiny pinprick of hope each time that perhaps they had lucked out and one of the rooms would contain the Doctor. That seemed unlikely, given the apparent lack of locks on the doors, but she knew that every door was one door closer to actually finding her.

Their searching was suddenly interrupted by a blaring alarm that screamed out from a rusty speaker high on the wall. Jack and Yaz looked at each other in shock, then up and down the corridor, convinced this meant their luck was running out and their presence had been discovered. Yaz tried the door to the next storage room, which opened with squealing hinges. They entered the room, shutting the door behind them. It was illuminated by a couple of weak strip lights on the ceiling and the light spilling through the small door window. Jack kept watch through the window as Yaz carefully rearranged the boxes to allow a small gap, big enough for them to crawl into, but small enough to be pretty much unnoticeable should anyone look into the room. 

It was snug inside the gap, but Yaz squeezed herself in first, followed by Jack, who slid a box across the opening behind him to further hide their location. Little light could penetrate their box fortress, but they waited for several minutes to see if anyone would come bursting into the room to search for them. The alarm was still sounding, though it was quieter in the room, muffled further by the boxes around them. After a period which may have been five minutes or five hours, Jack pulled out the general access tablet and tapped on it, causing it to light up. They both leaned over, staring at the screen. 

The Doctor had once explained to Yaz about the effect the TARDIS had on those who travelled within, translating alien languages so they could be understood. It had made Yaz wonder if the Doctor was actually speaking a different language, and what Gallifreyan might actually sound like. Anyway, whatever the technicalities behind it, apparently the not-the-TARDIS was having the same effect, because Yaz could understand what was on the screen, despite being pretty certain it was not actually conveniently written in English. 

It appeared to be a home page of sorts, with various icons dotted on the screen. The icons themselves meant nothing to Yaz, but fortunately each one was handily labelled: rota, data sheet, asset order forms, constrainments, locations. 

“What does ‘constrainments’ mean?” she whispered. 

“Prisoners,” Jack breathed back. They locked eyes. Bingo. He tapped on the icon, bringing up a complex table containing what appeared to be names, crimes, background details and so on. It didn’t seem to be in any kind of order that they could work out, and there were pages and pages of information. How would they find the Doctor without looking through each individual entry? Yaz scrolled through the pages, her heart sinking, wondering how they would find anything useful, when she noticed the final 3 pages were red, rather than blue. She took the tablet to look more carefully at these three pages. Perhaps the red meant they were the most dangerous prisoners or something. Jack tapped one particular column, which Yaz read as ‘duration’. “Length of sentence,” Jack whispered softly. These prisoners were in for a lot longer than the rest, it seemed. A LOT longer.

And then Yaz couldn’t contain a gasp… third from the bottom… the Doctor!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz and Jack are getting close!

Yaz thought her heart was actually going to leap out of her chest, but she drew a deep and slightly shaky breath, forcing her nerves to calm. They hadn’t got the Doctor yet. They weren’t safely out of the prison yet. But she felt closer than she had been since the Doctor left them in the not-the-TARDIS to potentially sacrifice her own life to save the universe. Somewhere on this same asteroid, the Doctor was in a cell. Unaware that Yaz was there, so close. They couldn’t blow this now. 

The information they had found on the general access tablet included the Doctor’s cell number, and in an extraordinary piece of good luck, the tablet also contained a map of the prison. It apparently consisted of a central level containing the docking bay, storage rooms, administration centre and so on, with ten levels above and five levels below containing all the cells. The cells formed a circuit around the perimeter of the asteroid, with a large open space down the centre. It reminded Yaz very much of the way earth prisons often seemed to be built. A number of elevators connected the levels, and the possibility of the elevators not working for any reason had evidently never been considered, as there were no alternative ways to move from level to level. 

They identified the level the Doctor’s cell was on, and although they didn’t know where on the admin and storage level they were, they worked out possible routes they could take. By the time they finalised their plans, Yaz couldn’t keep the smile off her face, and Jack smiled too, with a knowing look in his eyes. 

The main problem at this very moment was the alarm, which was still echoing around. There had been a distinct lack of anyone in the corridor searching, which was baffling. Perhaps the alarm hadn’t been about them at all. Perhaps it was a smoke alarm and someone had burnt the toast. Yaz had a sudden thought and pointed at the tablet. “Is there any kind of communication thing on there? That might tell us what the alarm is for?” She whispered.

Jack set about searching through the various systems on the tablet, making an approving noise when he eventually discovered something that might tell him what he wanted. And then he began to laugh. Not a quiet laugh, not the laugh someone afraid they were going to be discovered might give, but a raucous and loud guffaw. Yaz poked him in the arm hard.

“Jack! Shhh! We don’t want them to find us!” she hissed angrily. His recklessness was not going to stand in her way of rescuing the Doctor!

“Relax,” he chuckled. He showed her the tablet, where a screen was open labelled ‘Current announcements’. Yaz scanned the screen, then began to laugh herself when she saw it: 

‘Do not forget the weekly alarm test that will take place today. Continue your work as normal.’ 

The tensions they had endured up to this point were finally relinquished to gales of unstoppable, stomach-hurting laughter, tears streaming from their eyes, gasping for breath between fresh explosions of hilarity. There was nothing either of them could do to stop laughing at that moment, and should any official from the prison have happened into the room right then, they would have had the dubious honour of accosting two people wracked by screams of laughter. Jack and Yaz could do nothing but wait for them to die down naturally, when they lay there breathing heavily, clutching their pained stomach muscles and wiping the tears from their faces. 

Once they had finally composed themselves once more, and their brains had allowed them to regain a more serious demeanour, they crept from their hide-out amongst the boxes and returned to the still-empty corridor. Having now seen a map, Yaz assumed they were in one of the smaller, peripheral corridors, all of which apparently led to a central hub area. The likelihood was that the closer they got to the central hub, the higher the chances of there being others around, which would make their lives considerably more interesting. 

And as if on cue, they turned a corner and ran straight into a Judoon guard. Yaz’s initial instinct was to turn and run, but Jack gave her elbow a small squeeze, and she copied his air of confidence, keeping her head held high as they walked towards the Judoon. It was time to emulate the Doctor again – swan along like she owns the place, total confidence. The Judoon didn’t even bat an eyelid at them and they sailed past without any problem at all. Jack winked at her, and she winked back. They had this. It was going to be a piece of cake.

“Stop!”

Or maybe not.

The Judoon guard had called to them, and they stopped and turned slowly. The Judoon was eyeing them suspiciously. Jack looked like he was about to launch into a charm offensive, but Yaz remembered that the Judoon were basically space police, and she could speak police. Even if she looked like she had just crawled out from a chimney.

“I hope you have a very good reason for stopping members of the undercover investigation department,” she barked officiously. She hoped this would give them an air of superiority to bulldoze whatever the Judoon had been planning. It seemed to have the desired effect as the Judoon squinted slightly looking at them, and then waved them on. Jack gave her a very subtle high five as they turned back and continued their way along the corridor. The crackle of a walkie-talkie sounded behind them and then they heard the Judoon speak: “Infiltrators identified, corridor 23!” Yaz’s plan hadn’t worked at all, and all it took was a brief glance between her and Jack to formulate and agree the next plan: run!

A little further along the corridor, it split in three directions. A platoon of Judoon could be seen charging towards them down the middle one, so Jack grabbed Yaz’s arm and pulled her to the right. They zig-zagged round a series of corners and junctions, the unmistakeable sound of lots of Judoon running not far enough behind them. They had lost all sense of direction, and occasionally raced past random non-Judoon workers who watched them with confusion. Neither of them knew where they were heading, and Yaz was sure they were going to run out of corridor sooner rather than later, when they skidded round a corner into a large room containing at least ten elevators. Luck was truly on their side. They paused only briefly, then both began pressing the buttons by each door until at the sixth one, the following Judoon surely about to burst into the room, there was an incongruous ping and the door slid open. They both rushed in and Yaz began jabbing frantically at the buttons inside. But the door stayed resolutely open and through the doorway they could see the Judoon approaching at a surprisingly fast rate. They could run fast. 

Guns were aimed at them, and they pressed themselves on either side of the door, Yaz still next to the panel of buttons which she continued to jab at with desperation. It felt like trying to start the golf cart all over again. In which case… Yaz made a fist and slammed it against the panel as hard as she could. A spike of pain shot up her arm, but by some absolute miracle, it did the trick! Bolts fired from the Judoon guns began exploding on the back wall of the elevator but the door slid closed and they felt it begin to move upwards. Jack stared at her with an open mouth, giving Yaz a rare opportunity to have the upper hand.

“No time for catching flies,” she quipped. “What level is the Doctor on?” Jack’s mouth snapped shut at Yaz’s words and he pulled out the tablet to check. 

“Seventh level,” he replied. “Stand back.” Yaz gave him access to the panel of buttons, and after a complex combination of presses, the elevator came to a stop. They both crammed themselves against one side as the door opened, but there was no one waiting for them. 

“I wonder if they regularly get people trying to break in?” she said quietly to Jack, nothing the lack of an alarm or any kind of awaiting officials ready to shoot them the second the door opened. 

“Knowing the Judoon, it’s more likely that they have every confidence in the security of the prison and don’t believe anyone would actually be able to get out alive,” he responded. “Now is when I need your eyes. To reduce on manpower – or rhino-power, I suppose – they are heavily reliant on technology to keep the place secure.” He pulled a small object out of a pocket and continued, “I have a little friend here that will help me out with the tech side of things, but each door is going to take a while. That’s where you come in. There won’t be many guards around, but there are some, and I need you to watch out for them. We do NOT want to get caught by one of the guards patrolling, believe me.” Yaz nodded in understanding and agreement. 

The elevator had opened into a room similar to the one they had left. An open doorway led to a walkway circling a cavernous central space. They could see the levels above and below them, though it was dark, and they could also see that spaced regularly along the walkway were barred doors with glowing panels in the centre of each. Jack held up the small device and made his way silently along to the first door. Yaz held slightly back where she had a better view around the walkway. Two levels above she saw a guard walking slowly between a couple of doors. Although apparently not Judoon, the guard was pretty heftily built. Yaz watched them scan their hand to pass through a barred doorway and continue their slow route. At the moment, the guard’s back was to Yaz and Jack, but when they turned the corner at the end, Yaz knew she and Jack would be visible unless they backed into the shadows against the wall. She kept her eyes firmly on the guard, and as they approached the corner, she tapped Jack’s shoulder and gestured for them both to press into the shadows. 

They watched the guard pass along the far side of the walkway, oblivious to their presence, until turning another corner masked their current location from the guard’s line of sight. Jack returned to his work on the door, and a moment later, it clicked open with a sound that felt to Yaz like it echoed around the entire space. They both froze, looking and listening for any sign that the guard had become aware of their presence, but there was nothing. They slipped through, and were faced with their first set of cell doors. 

Jack showed Yaz the symbol of the Doctor’s cell on the tablet to Yaz so she could check whilst he worked on the next door. After straining her eyes in the dim light to try and see any guards and assuring herself that none were nearby, she began examining the symbols on the cell doors. Each door had a window, and Yaz was careful not to be seen by whoever – or whatever – might be within. The last thing they needed was a random prisoner kicking up a storm on seeing them and alerting every guard in the prison. None of the doors in this section matched the one on the tablet, so Yaz returned to scouring the walkway and other levels for guards. 

They proceeded through several more sections without any trouble from guards, when there was a clunk on the opposite side of their walkway, and slow footsteps began making their way around the circuit towards them. Jack frowned and doubled down his efforts on the latest door as Yaz tried to work out what to do. Surely the second the guard came across one of the open doors they had left behind all hell would break loose. They’d not stand any chance of escape. There had to be some way of stopping the guard, but how? Wait – maybe she couldn’t stop them, but she could distract them. Carefully, she pulled her hair out of the ponytail, held the hairband between her left thumb and forefinger and used her right hand to pull it back and aim it at the walkway on the level below. She had to get this right, and she only had one chance. She held her breath, stretched the hairband as far as she could, then released, watching it fly across the cavern and ping into the railing a level down, causing the loose fencing to rattle. The footsteps on their own level ceased, and a torch beam snapped on to shine from somewhere to their right down onto the level below, where the hairband had hit. Hurried footsteps echoed away from them, and the sound of doors opening and shutting until the guard emerged onto the level below. 

Jack wasn’t going to risk speaking, but he mouthed the words “Nice work!” to Yaz and she tucked her hair behind her ears with slightly shaky hands. She had no idea what would happen if they came across another guard, or that one returned to their level, but for now they had more time. 

In each new section, Ya examined the cell door symbols, but none of them matched the Doctor’s. However, on getting through to the next area, the middle of the three doors was red. It had no symbols on it, but looking through the small window showed that it led not to a cell, but another walkway with 6 red doors. There were 6 names in the red section on the tablet which had told them where the Doctor was. This had to be it! Without any words, Yaz knew Jack had come to the same conclusion as he set to work on the red door. Yaz’s stomach began making flips. 

The Doctor was behind one of those doors.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here, the moment you've all been waiting for! And let me tell you, it was glorious to write! I haven't managed to get even a fraction of the vivid images and emotions inside my head into my writing, I apologise, but I hope you enjoy it even a tiny bit as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those of you who have left kudos or comments - they mean so much.

Once Jack had managed to open the door into the red corridor, Yaz snuck quietly to the edge of the walkway to try and work out where the guard was. She could see them on the level below, still apparently searching for whatever had made the noise. It was surreal – the cells were absolutely silent, and though Yaz had carefully not looked into any of them to ensure she wasn’t spotted, she assumed each one had an inmate. The cells must have had excellent soundproofing, and ideas about why this might be needed popped unbidden into Yaz’s mind and made her shudder. Was it because of what they did to the inmates? Was it because the inmates were so dangerous? She doubted it was out of consideration for the inmates having a good night’s sleep.

Jack beckoned her through the door, and pushed this one so that it was almost but not quite closed. There were three red doors on each side, and Yaz spotted the one with the correct symbol straight away. Her breathing quickened and she involuntarily grasped Jack’s arm as they made their way towards it. These doors had no windows, so there was no way of confirming the Doctor was inside, but Yaz just knew it was right. After all this time, the Doctor was just a door away. 

Jack pulled his arm from her grip in order to set to work on opening the door, and Yaz found she couldn’t remain still. She paced up and down the corridor, trying not to make any noise, trying to be patient. Hadn’t Jack been quicker with all the previous doors? Why was this one taking so long? What if his device had stopped working? What if is somehow managed to lock the door even more? What if it wasn’t even the Doctor in there?

Yaz could feel herself spiralling and forced herself to take several deep breaths. She couldn’t take her eye off the ball and needed to keep watching out for guards. If they were found, it wouldn’t matter how close they were, she would never see the Doctor again. 

There was a soft click from the door. Jack looked at Yaz, and Yaz thought that her heart genuinely couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to fling Jack aside and burst through the door, and at the same time she wanted to run away. What? Why? Her brain short circuited at that point and Jack gently pushed the door open.

Inside was a fairly small, dark room. A blanket in the corner appeared to be the bed, but there was no other furniture. The walls were blank, save for a line of dim lights stretching along each one high up, and on the far wall was a small, barred window, the bars glowing blue. Yaz both saw everything and nothing all at once, because standing next to the discarded blanket was the Doctor, with an expression of complete astonishment, her mouth forming an almost perfect o.

Her hair was longer, her coat was nowhere in sight, her white sleeves rolled up to her elbows, but other than that, she looked as she always did.

The Doctor’s eyes met Yaz’s for just a moment before Jack surged forward and kissed her the way he had 4 regenerations ago.

Now it was Yaz’s turn to look astonished. What was he doing? But before she could formulate any thoughts, Jack had turned to her with an unfathomable look on his face, having seen her reaction.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tread on your toes,” he smiled.

Yaz opened and shut her mouth several times without being able to say anything. This was not how it was meant to be going. But before she could re-engage her brain to formulate anything of coherence, the Doctor had taken matters into her own hands, strode forwards to close the gap between them and wrapped her arms around Yaz in the tightest hug she had ever experienced. She held onto the Doctor like her life depended on it and nothing in the universe could have stopped the tears that fell from her closed eyes. She didn’t ever want to let go of the Doctor ever again. She just wanted to remain in this moment, their bodies pressed together so tightly, her face pressed into the Doctor’s neck. It was like that terrible dream only a thousand times more intense but this time it was real – and all she could feel, all she could smell, was the Doctor. There was nothing but this moment forever and ever.

It was the Doctor who pulled away first, and Yaz instantly felt incomplete. But the older woman held Yaz’s face in her hands, looked into her eyes and spoke so quietly, so softly. 

“I missed you!”

More tears fell from Yaz’s eyes. She wished she had prepared something deeply profound and meaningful to say, yet she had never dared to truly imagine it. She had always hoped, she had never given up, but equally she had been scared to think about this very moment. 

“I missed you so much!” was all she could manage, as the Doctor gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Ahem. I hate to interrupt this beautiful moment, ladies, but we do have a fairly pressing escape to pull off.” Jack had a look in his eyes that Yaz really couldn’t place, and a smirk on his face that was equally baffling.

The Doctor turned to Jack. “I am not going to ask anything right now, but trust me, once we are safe, I have so many questions!” Her tone was slightly accusatory, but she followed it up with, “And it’s really good to see you, Jack,” and a smile.

Jack led the way out of the cell, and as the Doctor stepped past Yaz, she reached out and took her hand. They followed Jack into the corridor and back to the main walkway. There was no sign of the guard, which was bad news. There was no way the guard was gone. They were there somewhere, but who knew where? The three of them moved as silently as they could, sticking to the shadows by the wall and ducking under the window of every cell door they passed. The doors between each section were still open, which suggested the guard had not yet returned to this level. Or that the guard wanted them to think that…

After creeping along far further than Yaz remembered they had come, they saw the turn into the elevator room, light spilling onto the walkway. Still no sign of the guard. It felt too easy. Something wasn’t right. They pressed every button by every elevator until one door opened and they braced themselves for the guards they were sure were going to pour out from within – but no. Still nothing. 

It was stepping into the elevator that did it – somehow it had been rigged so that the moment they set foot inside, the alarm Jack and Yaz had heard testing what seemed like days ago (yet was in reality a matter of just a few hours) screamed into life. Yaz leapt out of her skin and slammed her fist into the control panel inside the elevator, but this time it didn’t work, and the sound of running footsteps from the walkway echoed into room above the sound of the alarm. Not just one person’s footsteps, either, quite a lot of people by the sound of it. 

Yaz punched the control panel again, but still no response. She looked in panic at Jack and the Doctor. Jack reached into his pocket, pulled something out and handed it to the Doctor. How Jack had come to possess it was a conversation for another time – it was the Sonic Screwdriver. Yaz assumed the Doctor would use it to do something to the control panel and make the elevator work, but instead she pulled them both out of the elevator back into the room as the thundering footsteps of the approaching guards grew louder and louder.

Yaz was about to ask what was happening, when the Doctor held up the Sonic and activated it, waving it around the room like someone trying to get a signal on an old mobile phone. And then, as the guards finally approached the entrance to the room, a sound so familiar, so beloved, and so subtly different from the not-the-TARDIS… VWORP VWORP VWORP!

In the corner of the room, an unassuming blue box that was the second most beautiful sight Yaz had seen that day. 

The guards finally burst into the room so the site of a blue box fading into nothingness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sub-titled "Blanket Rescue"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to come after this. 
> 
> Do leave a note telling me what you think of this story. I'd love to know.

They were back inside the TARDIS. The real TARDIS. The Doctor bounded around the console as if she hadn’t just escaped after months incarcerated in prison. Jack flicked the occasional switch or pressed the odd button as prompted by the Doctor. Yaz sat on the steps and watched, the adrenaline of the entire adventure finally running out. But she didn’t want to go to her room and rest. She never wanted to take her eyes off the Doctor again, and she watched every single move she made. So engrossed was she in watching the Doctor that she didn’t notice Jack heading her way until he sat next to her, making her jump.

“What d’ya know? We actually did it!” he smiled, sitting next to her and nudging her with his shoulder.

Yaz gave a weak smile. “We did! I can’t quite believe it, but we did!” she replied turning her eyes back to the Doctor. 

Jack watched her for a moment thoughtfully. “I’ve been around a bit, you know,” he began, and Yaz turned back to him, her eyebrows raised questioningly. “I’ve seen it all, one way or another,” he continued cryptically. “I’ve done my share of dancing, and I can spot the people round the edge of the dance floor.” Yaz was truly confused. What on earth was he going on about? He stood and stretched, then took Yaz’s hands and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her into a dance and twirled her around the room, singing dramatically, until he finally spun her by the console, letting go and sending her staggering into the Doctor, who caught her arms to keep her upright.

“Jack,” the Doctor reprimanded. “I don’t think Yaz is in the mood for dancing.” She looked Yaz in the eyes. “You look exhausted,” she added with feeling.

“She’s had quite the adventure to bust you out, and you should find out what she’s been up to whilst you were locked away,” Jack waggled his eyebrows. “Anyway, I’m beat. I’m gonna go lie down for a while. Wake me when we get somewhere exciting!” and with that, he waltzed up the steps and disappeared into the depths of the TARDIS, still singing.

The two women turned to look at each other and suddenly noticed their close proximity, the Doctor rapidly dropping Yaz’s arms. But neither moved further away. The Doctor reached out and gently wiped a smudge from Yaz’s cheek, reminding the younger woman that she was still absolutely filthy from the engine room, and her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. The Doctor saw her redden, or felt the warmth under her hand, or possibly both, and gave a soft smile. 

“You do look like you’ve come via a chimney,” she said with amusement.

Yaz gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “Jack and I had to pay for our passage in the engine room of a ship to get to the prison.” She swiped down her front in an ineffective attempt to dislodge some of the dirt. 

“You worked in an engine room? I am impressed!” The Doctor’s expression was genuine, images of Yaz engaged in strenuous physical activity flitting through her mind and causing a minor brain short-circuit.

Yaz smiled and looked down. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through. What happened in the prison?”

“Well thankfully the Judoon are hot on rules and treat their prisoners surprisingly well.” The Doctor leaned sideways against the console, twiddling absently with a nearby dial. 

Yaz didn’t know whether or not she believed the Doctor, but it had to be said she looked healthy, and considerably cleaner than she herself did. 

“Why did Jack want me to ask what you’ve been up to whilst I was gone?” the Doctor inquired, her face suddenly serious.

Yaz looked away, suddenly overcome by the pain of those months living without life, with only one intention at the expense of everything else. When she finally spoke, her voice broke despite her efforts to control it.

“We thought you’d died.” She looked back and this time it was the Doctor who looked down.

“I had to do it. I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t let the Master win.” Her voice sounded hollow and distant. 

“And did he? Because you’re still here,” Yaz probed carefully.

The Doctor replied with just two words, which were enough explanation for Yaz. “Ko Sharmus.” It was what she had hoped, and she felt cruel for wishing that, because it gave the Doctor a future at the expense of his own. She reached out and took one of the Doctor’s hands in both of her own, studying it as she spoke.

“I never gave up,” she whispered. “I had to do everything I could to try.”

“Yaz, you can’t let me stand in the way of you having a life,” the Doctor replied, turning the table and taking both of Yaz’s hands in her own. “I am not worth it.”

Yaz didn’t know how to answer that. Didn’t know how to tell the Doctor that her worth was so much greater than Yaz’s, greater than Jack’s, greater even than the sum of everyone she knew. How could she tell the Doctor how important she was to the universe? And how important she was to Yaz herself? The simple fact that she had been avoiding for so long was now unavoidable. It left her breathless and unable to speak.

In the end, it was the Doctor who found words first. She let her hand trail the length of Yaz’s hair. “I like your hair down,” she breathed with a smile. The sensation of the Doctor’s gentle hand on her hair made Yaz’s heart pound and stomach flutter. She smiled back and reached out to reciprocate. “I like your hair longer,” she replied, stroking it with her fingertips, then letting her hand rest against the Doctor’s cheek. The Doctor leaned into the warmth and Yaz found herself falling into the Doctor’s hazel eyes.

“THE TARDIS!” 

Both women jumped apart as if burned as Jack flew down the steps, shouting in a voice that broke whatever mood had been growing in the room. 

“What?” Yaz and the Doctor both exclaimed at the same time. 

“The TARDIS!” Jack repeated at a slightly lower volume.

“What about her?” The Doctor asked with some annoyance. 

“No, not this one,” Jack said with wide eyes, and then the penny dropped for Yaz and her eyes widened. “The other one!” she cried.

“Yes! The other one!” Jack responded, but the Doctor had had enough of not knowing what they were talking about.

“Stop! What other TARDIS?” she asked with some frustration.

“The one you sent us away from Gallifrey in!” Yaz answered. “Jack and I used it to get to the planet nearest the prison asteroid. It’s still there!”

Finally the Doctor understood. “Right. Well we can’t just leave random TARDISes lying around, can we? We’d better go and get it. On the planet near the asteroid, you say?” And she was off, charging around the console operating levers and switches and dials until after a mighty judder that sent Yaz staggering across the room, everything went still. 

“I locked onto the trace Artron energy readings,” the Doctor explained. “Landed right behind it.” She flung open the door and then slammed it shut again abruptly. “Good grief, where on earth did you land? Inside a music festival toilet?”

Jack gave a laugh and strolled over to pat the Doctor heartily on the back. “Seedy alleyway in a seedy town. Come on!” He strode out of the door and back into the stench Yaz had last smelt before she’d been reunited with the Doctor. She followed more cautiously, but was grateful to note that they had landed right next to the door of the other TARDIS, and she could also see what form it had taken when it materialised down that unpleasant alleyway – a detail she had not stopped to see when they had first landed there. The not-the-TARDIS had adopted the form of a rough, wooden lean-to against the side of the alley. The tatty flyers that were pasted on the side appeared to be new additions since its arrival, testament to its successful ability to blend in.

Yaz held her breath to pass from one door to the other, but had been unprepared for the effect of stepping back into the not-the-TARDIS. The place she had spent so many lonely, exhausted and frustrating hours in her refusal to give up on the Doctor. She stood silently next to the console as the Doctor wandered around as if visiting a fascinating art gallery, looking at the walls, the pillars, the console.

“She’s changed!” She finally announced. Jack and Yaz looked at each other in puzzlement. “TARDISes adapt to their owner, you know,” the Doctor explained. “They take on characteristics of the person who spends the most time in it.” She wandered around a little more, examining random things. Then she stopped and looked at Yaz. “It’s you, Yaz!” she said in delight. “She feels like you!” She stooped to pick up a notebook that had been flung in a corner and absently flicked through the pages as she wandered through the doorway into the adjacent room. 

She stopped. Stopped flicking the pages, stopped walking, her attention caught by what she could see. Yaz felt like her soul was being read. She knew what the Doctor had seen in the other room. A makeshift bed on the floor with a yellow blanket. A bag of spilt clothes in the corner. Evidence of what Yaz’s life had been in the aching time between the Doctor leaving and being found. She rubbed half-heartedly at the caudlum stains on her t-shirt again, just to give her hands something to do. 

There was sorrow in the Doctor’s eyes, but she could see Yaz’s pain, and chose wisely not to push or confront her. Instead, without speaking, she picked up the yellow blanket (which she couldn’t help but notice smelt subtly of Yaz), and pressed the notebook into Jack’s hands. 

“I could live to regret saying this, but I need you to get this TARDIS out of here, and take it somewhere it can die quietly without being discovered.” She told him.

“What? That’s a waste of a good TARDIS!” he protested, but the Doctor cut him off before he could continue. 

“No, it’s what needs to happen. Don’t get any ideas, you are NOT keeping her!” she stated with finality, though she knew full well that there was no real way she could be sure he would do what she had asked. However, Jack paused then nodded.

“OK. For you, Doctor. I’ll do it for you.” Then he wrapped her in a massive hug. “It’s so good to see you again.” He said with feeling.

“Thank you, Jack. Thank you for finding me.” The Doctor replied. Then she turned and headed to the door, turning to Yaz as she went, eyes suddenly flashing with excitement. “Come on, Yaz, time to go.”

Yaz turned to say goodbye to Jack, but before she could say anything, she found herself engulfed in his arms. 

“You did an amazing job, darling,” he said fondly. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Thank you!” was all Yaz could reply, and it didn’t feel enough. But she didn’t know how to say what was in her heart, how much it meant that he had given her the chance to find the Doctor. He kissed her on the cheek. 

“Until next time!” And there was his characteristic smile and wink, and Yaz turned and walked out of the door, feeling sure that one day their paths would cross again.

By the time she got back into the TARDIS – the real one – the Doctor was already busy at the console. 

“I don’t want to seem rude, but there’s a very impressive shower room near the library,” she began causing Yaz to laugh.

“To be honest, I would love to feel clean again!” she replied, heading to the steps. 

It was time to wash away the past and step into the future. A future with the Doctor. And it had never looked brighter.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in finishing this off, but we are here at last!
> 
> Also, considering the little bits we know about Revolution of the Daleks now, I seem to have hit the nail on the head on a number of points on this fic - apparently Chris Chibnall and I were thinking along similar lines about various things!
> 
> Anyway, here's some Christmas softness to finish the year and this fic.  
> ____________________________________________________________________

To say that the welcome Yaz and the Doctor got on arriving at Graham and Ryan’s house in Sheffield was overjoyed would be an understatement. Ryan ran around clutching his head and Graham pulled both the Doctor and Yaz into an awkward but sweet three way hug that felt like it would never end.

And it was Christmas day! 

They had missed Graham’s traditional Santa lost sock gag, and the morning present opening, but this was truly the best Christmas Yaz had ever experienced. Ryan managed to persuade Yaz to join him playing some random game where she discovered she had precisely zero skill, and kept accidentally leaping off random cliff edges much to everyone’s hilarity. The Doctor was throwing out random useless suggestions of help from the dining table at the same time as she was apparently upgrading Graham’s new phone.

“There’s a cliff there, Yaz, don’t jump off it,” she called without looking up.

“Too late!” Ryan guffawed as Yaz yet again pressed the wrong button on her controller causing her character to dive in a spectacular fashion from said cliff. 

Graham was belting out Christmas carols from the kitchen, where he was cooking up a storm. The Doctor had sulked briefly when he resolutely refused to allow her in to help, until he’d distracted her with the new phone. He was secretly hoping she’d manage to break it so he didn’t feel obliged to part with his old phone. The smells emanating from the kitchen were making Yaz’s stomach rumble and she wondered how long it had been since she’d last eaten properly. 

When the time finally came to load up the table with the fruits of Graham’s labours, Yaz felt like she could have eaten a horse, and even the Doctor was proclaiming her hunger. Crackers were pulled, bad jokes laughed hard over, and colourful paper hats adorned everyone’s heads. Well, two hats in the case of the Doctor, who originally had scored a yellow hat in her cracker, but was so envious of Yaz’s purple one that they’d pulled four more crackers until a second purple hat was produced, which the Doctor squished on top of the yellow one.

“Why don’t you just take the yellow one off, Doc?” Graham questioned through a mouthful of sprouts. The Doctor had looked baffled at the suggestion, and piled more pigs in blankets on her already overflowing plate. 

The rest of the afternoon was filled with as much laughter as food. Finally, once the sky had gone dark, Ryan insisted on beginning the big clear up unaided and Graham switched on the TV so they could slump in front of something mindless and amusing. Ryan had suggested Graham should sit in his gaming chair which he’d brought down, and once the older man had collapsed into it, he declared that he would never be able to get up again and that they would have to wait on him hand and foot for the rest of his life. Ryan brought him a cup of tea and Yaz gave him a mince pie which kept him happy until he began to nod off.

Yaz had settled down on the sofa, her heart feeling as full as her stomach at that moment. The Doctor had tried to help Ryan in the kitchen but yet again found herself refused entry. Instead, she flopped onto the sofa next to Yaz. She grabbed Yaz’s yellow banket, which had been deposited at the other end of the sofa, and pulled it up to cover both of them. 

In the warmth of the room, with a gentle Christmas film burbling in the background, Graham soft snores from the gaming chair and the sounds of Ryan washing up in the kitchen, Yaz felt a warm hand find her own under the blanket. 

The Doctor leaned her head on Yaz’s shoulder and let her eyes drift closed. 

“You never gave up, did you?” she whispered so quietly that Yaz almost missed it.

“Never.” She replied, resting her cheek on the Doctor’s head. She felt the Time Lord snuggle into her side, and realised the months of pain and sadness were finally over. She wasn’t sure if the wound they left behind would ever fully heal, but for now, on this Christmas evening, she didn’t need to dwell on the past or the future, just on this moment with the Doctor right now.


End file.
